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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24050197">Safe</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/maxbegone/pseuds/maxbegone'>maxbegone</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek ficlets [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Missing Scene, Past Drug Use, Past manipulation, mentions of drug use, mentions of manipulation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:15:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,980</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24050197</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/maxbegone/pseuds/maxbegone</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“David?”</p>
<p>He wants to say silent, he really does. He wants to let the moment pass and just force himself to fall asleep again. But he doesn’t. It’s like his mouth is moving faster than his brain at this point.</p>
<p>“No one has ever made me feel like that,” he begins. “I was usually this one-and-done thing for people. Wasn’t worth the effort.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>"I've never felt as safe as I do when I'm with you." </p>
<p>Long before they exchange their vows, David talks about the past a bit, gets a bit raw about it and Patrick listens and loves him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patrick Brewer/David Rose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek ficlets [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1684510</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>239</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Safe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>@stuck-on-your-heart mentioned something about how big a deal it is that Patrick makes David feel so safe, so I took that and ran with it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s raining today. A heavy downpour that hits against the windows in a way that seems to encompass the entire apartment with white noise. The weather, simplistically, is lousy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ever since the rain started early that morning, David’s been nursing a dull headache. He hasn’t done anything for it, mainly because he and Patrick have been in bed the whole time fading in and out of sleep. He got up once to use the bathroom and stole Patrick’s zip-up on the way back.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s really just one of those wonderfully lazy days where the weather allows him to do nothing until he gets antsy around seven o’clock and he begs Patrick to order a pizza.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He <em>hopes </em>they order pizza. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They bed is cool on Patrick’s side when David wakes from his second nap of the day, thrusting him into the late morning. Before long, though, his fiancé is padding back over to the bed with two mugs of steaming tea and a smile that he reserves only for him. David gives Patrick a sleepy blink and smiles back. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mornin’ sunshine,” Patrick murmurs as he plants a kiss into his hair, carefully balancing the mugs. His own hair is a little wet from the shower, and he smells like the spiced bergamot body wash they’ve begun selling at the store. It’s intoxicating and David loves it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How long was I out?” He grumbles into his pillow. Patrick’s pillow, actually.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Forty-five minutes. Sorry for leaving, I really needed to shower. Sit up so you don’t spill this on yourself.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">David obliges as Patrick climbs back into bed with him, dressed in a new pair of sweats and a faded blue tee. <em>Definitely </em>a lazy day. He passes the mug and two Advil over to David.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Caramel shortbread and a teaspoon of sugar,” Patrick recites, sipping his own tea. “And I figured your head would be hurting with all this rain. Not too hot?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mh, no. Perfect,” David hums into his mug. He downs the two pills, leans back against the fluffy pillows and lets out a contented sigh. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Patrick sets his mug aside to pull his guitar from where it’s laid carefully in its open case next to the bed. He does this sometimes, and David will just sit and watch. Patrick will absentmindedly pluck away at his six-string, moving idly up and down the fingerboard. Sometimes he’ll play a song that David will recognize, other times it’ll just be a slew of random notes both sharp and flat. Regardless of what Patrick does, it sounds beautiful to David. It always sounds beautiful. Patrick will sing sometimes, too, and on occasion he makes a whole show out of it. But it doesn’t seem that way today.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Today he’s just strumming away as he stares somewhat dreamily at the ceiling.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">David watches him closely. He studies the way Patrick’s fingers move, the way his hands flex and the veins pop out, and how his ring fingers seems to be moving around the most. It’s all meditative for him. David notes the way the corners of Patrick’s mouth have quirked up as well, like they always do when he’s playing without any singing, his lips just slightly pursed together. Patrick’s eyes flutter closed, they always do. Slowly, David’s headache is subsiding, and as much as he wants to credit the smooth sound of his partner’s guitar playing, he knows it’s the painkillers.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He doesn’t realize that he’s staring until Patrick opens his eyes again and looks over. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nothing, nothing.” David hides a smile in his now-empty mug. “Keep playing.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Patrick laughs a bit. “Would you like to hear anything in particular?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">David shakes his head, “No. I like whatever you’re playing now.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well I’m not really playing <em>anything, </em>so.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He shifts a bit to make himself closer to Patrick. “Yeah, but I still like it.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Patrick lets out a breathy “Oh,” and leans in to kiss him softly. When they pull away, he knocks at the underside of David’s chin with the length of his index finger. He carefully places his guitar back down in its case. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I like this,” David whispers, almost at random. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Like what?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This,” he gestures vaguely. “Us together like this, with nothing going on. You playing your little guitar while it rains, making me tea.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah? And what are you doing for me?” Patrick teases in return. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m wearing your hoodie, which I arguably look <em>very </em>cute in.” David bounces his head little bit in emphasis. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You <em>do </em>look very cute in it.” Patrick takes the mug from David’s hands and places it on the nightstand next to his own. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s all really nice,” David continues. “It feels nice, it feels safe. I feel safe here…” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He knows Patrick’s looking at him, maybe a little quizzically, or maybe he’s giving him that careful look that says, <em>“Keep going, I’m still here.” </em>But saying that aloud just now pricked something deep inside him, and it’s making David feel a little off-center. Instead of looking over, he shimmies himself down until he’s on his back. He feels a little shy from having said anything at all.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“David?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He wants to say silent, he really does. He wants to let the moment pass and just force himself to fall asleep again. But he doesn’t. It’s like his mouth is moving faster than his brain at this point.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No one has ever made me feel like that,” he begins. “I was usually this one-and-done thing for people. Wasn’t worth the effort.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Patrick knows this, they’ve talked about it ad nauseam before. It’s a touchy subject, but David’s just added this whole other layer and he keeps going. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It was always me getting something from them, or them getting something from me. Pills, mostly, access to people I knew, like, really high up. Honestly at one point I was always looking to get a stellar high, so. There were days where I was barely sober because of it.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Patrick is completely still beside him, so David continues.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um…This one girl stole from me a few times, but I didn’t realize until it was too late because it always happened when I had a bunch of people over and when I was in the middle of hooking up with someone else. And there was this guy who basically ridiculed everything I wore, so. There was a time where I wore very plain things and he would decide on that for me.” David tugs at his sleeves a bit. “It was really short-lived though. Only lasted a month and a half before he got bored.” He waves a hand, feigning nonchalance. He doesn’t look to his right where Patrick is.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“David, that’s not okay.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know it’s not. And I knew it then, really. I was just trying to prove something, I guess.” He inhales and holds it for a second too long. “Sebastien was on a whole other level, though. We were usually completely smacked whenever we were together.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">David’s world rocks a bit, and the white noise from the rain outside becomes a bit more piercing. He shakes off the feeling and purses his lips. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Photos,” is all he says, and Patrick really already knows this. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He told him before they got together when Sebastien Raine came to town. Patrick had sensed David was very off that week, and in the middle of setting up a shelving unit, he told his then-new-business partner everything about the sleazy bastard. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Patrick’s moving to lay down next to David, facing him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey.” His voice is soft and soothing. “Can you look at me?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">David turns his head slowly. “Sorry,” he mutters, it’s almost inaudible. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know that you already know this David,” Patrick begins, “but I would <em>never </em>do anything to hurt you.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know you wouldn’t.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And I never intend to.” Patrick reaches out to brush against David’s face. “I love you, you mean the world over to me, David. Those people in your past who wronged you are long-gone. They don’t matter. <em>You </em>matter.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">David blinks. He sniffs a bit, swallows thickly to suppress threatening tears. It takes a few minutes for him to speak again, but looking at Patrick, the words come out so easy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ve never felt this safe before. I’ve never had anyone who makes me feel this way. You make me feel safe.” He laughs a little at how cheesy it all sounds, but Patrick isn’t laughing. Instead, he’s nodding, gentle and understanding. His hand trails from its spot on David’s cheep down to play with his left hand. It’s sans his rings at the moment, since he tends to not sleep with them.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">David continues. “In New York, with those people, I had to play it up. If I didn’t, they’d drop me. I didn’t know who I was so I just followed along. I learned to be someone I’m not, clearly. I, uh…Do you really want to marry me, Patrick?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Those words nearly hurt today. He feels so small in this bed. He didn’t expect to get into such a heavy conversation today, but here they are. If he didn’t take the Advil earlier, David is sure his head would be pounding much harder with an anxiety-induced headache.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Patrick shifts again, this time so he can wrap himself against David’s curled-up form.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“David Rose, I have never been so sure about anything in my life. I cannot <em>wait </em>to marry you.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Patrick’s voice grounds him. It does, it really does, but David’s in it now and he feels the need to press onward. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I have a lot of, I don’t know, emotional baggage?” David squeezes his eyes shut and says, “I’ve never felt so safe with anyone in my entire life, Patrick. I didn’t think that I ever could.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When he opens his eyes again, Patrick’s own are wide and doe-like.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Out of all the things everyone in his past life made him believe, David never thought that he was worthy of someone as beautiful and caring as Patrick Brewer. The fact that they were engaged, the fact that Patrick wanted to marry him despite everything in his past made him feel good about himself and where he was in his life right now. He thought, a long time ago, that he was destined to roam the Earth somewhat alone as he bounced from stranger to stranger, and on occasion have a fling that would last for more than a week and a half. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Patrick brings him back to the present when the pad of his thumb brushes against his under-eye. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“David. I will do everything in my power to make you feel safe for the rest of our lives.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s a strong statement. It’s bold, it’s powerful, and David knows with his whole being that it’s very true. When Patrick makes a promise, he keeps that promise. He’s proven it over and over again. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Finally, he says, “I love you,” and Patrick’s expression softens just a bit.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I love you, David,” he whispers back.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Patrick’s lips trail along the stubble on his jawline, leaving little kisses from there all the way down his neck. When he gets to the hollow of David’s throat, he nips a bit and kisses the spot. It both warms David and sends a chill down his spine. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Patrick drags himself back up to kiss David’s lips. It’s sweet.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll keep you safe,” he swears against his lips from where he now hovers over him. It’s so quiet, it’s only for them, even though they are alone in the apartment. It’s intimate, really.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A tear slips from David’s eye, leaving a cool mark as it caresses his temple. His smile grows wide and sweet. He blinks slow, and Patrick is still there above him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">David pulls him into his chest, holds Patrick tightly and whispers, “You, too.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">David means it. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You can find me on tumblr @maxbegone! Thank you for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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